Ugetsu Monogatari: Tales of Moonlight and Rain
by The Talentless Hack
Summary: AU, SaitouTokio. Takagi Tokio hasn’t been normal since the day she received a very unique gift from the Wolf god. Tired of being different, she wishes to be normal…Takagi Tokio is about to learn that she ought to be very careful what she wishes for.
1. 0: Ima wa mukashi

**A/N:** …so this is new. I don't know exactly where this came from. Actually, that is a bald-faced lie: this is the result of too much Laby fanfic (featuring Evil!Jareth, incidentally, not that that has any bearing on this story). Somehow, that morphed into this, and I really couldn't explain how if I tried.

This is going to draw on a lot of Japanese mythology, but you guys are lucky in that I don't expect you to know any, which means I will be providing extensive notes so that you aren't all confused out of your minds by what I'm talking about.

Also, this is actually the first _RK_ SaitouTokio thing I've written that is actually pretty light (as to be nonexistent) on Romance, hence the reason it isn't one of the genres. Take that as you will.

This one isn't a priority, so it will get updated with less frequency than _Captain Miserable_ (…so going by my recent track record that's like a chapter a year or something…). This is mostly an experiment for me, because I always wanted to fiddle with Japanese fairy tales/folktales/legends/what have you.

Anyway. I'll shut up and let you get on with it.

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Disclaimer: I do not own _Rurouni Kenshin_, _Ugetsu Monogatari_ or any of the tales referenced, however obliquely, within.

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Words To Watch Out For:

_Ugetsu Monogatari_: translates to _Tales of Moonlight and Rain_. A collection of nine independent stories, adapted from Chinese ghost stories, written by Ueda Akinari and first published in 1776. The title and the supernatural aspect are where the resemblance between Ueda's _Monogatari_ and mine ends.

Ima wa mukashi: phrase meaning "Now long ago…" It is a phrase beginning every tale in the _Konjaku Monogatarishū_ (_Anthology of Tales from the Past_). The Chinese-style pronunciation of this phrase is _Kon-jaku_, and it is from this that the collection gets its title.

quicksilver: the metal mercury; so called for its resemblance to liquid silver.

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_Ugetsu Monogatari: Tales of Moonlight and Rain_

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_0.: Ima wa mukashi…_

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It was the odd color of her eyes that drew him.

Hajime was wandering through a park in Kyoto, his preferred city—he found Tokyo a vulgar place, a place that did not properly pay homage to the Old Ways—when he caught sight of the girl-child. At first glance, he found her no more extraordinary than any other child running amok in the park. But he was close enough to see her face very clearly when she turned around to run back to, he assumed, her parents, and that was when he saw her eyes.

They were quicksilver eyes.

His interest was instantly piqued.

The color was unusual, to be sure. It was rare, even now, after all the decades of contamination from foreign blood, to find a Japanese person who didn't have dark hair and eyes. Fair hair was slightly more remarkable than light eyes, if only because the incidence of the former was so much lower than the latter. But that wasn't saying much, really, because one hardly ever saw a native Japanese with light eyes.

And _never_ with quicksilver eyes.

Hajime watched the girl-child, not caring that he was staring, or that his interest in her could be misconstrued; he was not bound by this realm's mores, and so they did not concern him. She toddled back to a man, presumably her father, who took the bright red ball from her chubby hand, and she sprang away to run back a few paces so he could throw it to her. He watched the game for a few moments in silence before he interfered, and soon the ball rolled to a stop beside his foot. He stooped down and picked it up, then straightened and looked at the girl-child, already running toward him to retrieve her plaything.

Those quicksilver eyes met his amber gaze without fear, and he was privately amused—children were so unafraid, at their core, and always of the proper things, too.

What a pity they grew out of it as time passed.

"Hello precious thing," he said when she stopped in front of him.

She executed an awkward bow, her eyes never leaving his.

"Hello," she said. "Could I have my ball, please?"

He smirked faintly, charmed by her—those eyes were large and liquid and so pale.

If he couldn't smell the mortality wafting off her so strongly, he'd have sworn there was magic in her.

"Yes you may," he said, holding it out to her, "since you asked so nicely."

She smiled at him and reached up to take the ball from him as if it were something more delicate than cheap, manmade rubber. His smile widened, and her pale eyes flickered to his mouth, then to his eyes, and then she smiled wider too.

He read her understanding in her smile: she knew he was more than he appeared.

Children were so very good at seeing underneath things.

"I'm sorry," a man said, and Hajime looked up to see the girl-child's father coming toward them hurriedly, apprehension and embarrassment warring for dominance on his face.

Hajime was irritated by the intrusion, unreasonably so, but he was also old enough to know better.

"There's nothing to be sorry over," he said, his gaze moving back to the girl-child, whose quicksilver eyes had never left his face. "It's difficult to muster annoyance at such a pretty child for so small a thing."

"Ah," the man said, sounding nervous.

_No doubt_, Hajime thought sardonically, _the primitive part of him recognizes what the civilized part refuses to acknowledge._

The girl-child stepped closer to Hajime and touched his trouser leg gently, and he obligingly knelt down to meet her gaze on more her terms.

"I like your eyes," she said in a soft, reverent voice, smiling shyly.

"As I like yours," he said with a smile that was just a bit sharper than his last.

If she minded, the girl-child gave no indication, and it pleased him that she was so fearless of him, knowing that he was different, perhaps dangerous, but knowing too that she had nothing to fear from him.

She reached out a hand to pet his cheek, and as soon as she did her impossibly large eyes grew larger and her pink little mouth rounded into an O. He smirked, and was thrilled by the delight on her face.

Now she _knew_ him, and rather than fear him, she was elated at the knowledge.

"Sada," her father said sharply, reaching over and snatching her warm little hand from Hajime's cheek, and Hajime's eyes flashed for a moment with fury at the _impudence_ of the mortal.

But it passed. And his precious thing won his further appreciation for the way she did not flinch away from his gaze when he looked at her again, even though he knew she had seen the white rage flicker in his eyes for a moment, knew she'd seen the brief change that irrefutably labeled him as something otherworldly.

The mortal was making his pitiful apologies for the girl-child—_Sada_, he thought, rolling the name around in his mind and deciding he approved of it—instead of the apologies he should have been making for himself, for interrupting little Sada's deference to one of the Ancients walking amongst the mortals. But the ignorant man had no way of knowing what Sada did—he categorically refused to.

That shortcoming—denying the fantastic—often afflicted adults. But not children—_never_ children.

It was why the young ones were so beloved by the Ancients.

"She wasn't hurting anything," Hajime said at long last, interrupting the mortal's stupid babbling. "Children are naturally inquisitive."

"You're very generous," the man said.

_And you are a fool_, Hajime thought coldly, his chilling gaze on the man.

"Some would agree," he said instead. Then he sent the man a feral smile, unable to resist a little pettiness: "But not many."

The man paled a little. Sada only smiled at him, and Hajime smiled back gently, unable to resist those quicksilver eyes.

When her father had grabbed her, she'd dropped her ball. Now, Hajime stooped down and picked it up again. The man held out his hand to take it from him, already thanking him; Hajime ignored him, knelt before Sada again, and offered the ball to her, treating it as delicately as she had only a short time ago.

"Here you are, precious thing," he said, still smiling faintly.

She smiled appreciatively and accepted the ball, then bowed.

Those quicksilver eyes never left his.

"Thank you," she said politely.

"You are most welcome." He reached out and touched the top of her head lightly, gently but quickly, and got the faintest impression of baby fine hair before he withdrew his hand.

It was enough.

Hajime rose and looked at the man—who was watching him warily—his gaze no longer warm and amused. He looked the man over, then dismissed him, gaze again returning to his precious thing.

She smiled at him, and he returned it.

"Goodbye precious thing," he said.

"Goodbye," she returned, bowing again, and he bowed his head, accepting her gesture of respect, before turning and walking away.

He wondered if she would appreciate his gift, impulsively given but lacking no less regard than any other gift.

"Papa, he had _wolf eyes_!" he heard her say, and he smiled.

Yes, children were very good and seeing underneath things.


	2. I: Mukashi mukashi

**Merry Christmas Faithful Readership!**

And so, in celebration of the holiday (not that I really need an excuse, but it makes things convenient), here is the second chapter of my little experiment. Hopefully it lives up to the (apparently tall) expectations of my readers.

There are quite a few notes to get through this time around, but I don't recommend skipping over them (and not just because I like to talk). I'm not going to be explaining very much within the chapter, as I expect everyone to have read the "Words." So it would behoove you not to blow them off, or you're going to have a really bad case of "WTF?!" by the end of this.

Hope you enjoy this, and that your holiday was a good one.

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Disclaimer: I do not own _Rurouni Kenshin_, _Ugetsu Monogatari_ or any of the tales referenced, however obliquely, within.

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Words To Watch Out For:

Mukashi mukashi: basically, "Once upon a time." "Mukashi" means "long ago"; repeating the character gives you "long ago, long ago," which is a rough equivalent of "Once upon a time."

kitsune: foxes, specifically foxes possessed of magical abilities, foremost among them the ability to assume human form. There is probably more lore about kitsune than any other supernatural being in Japanese mythology; this is generally believed to be due to the close quarters humans and foxes have traditionally shared. Because of their potential power, they are occasionally deified. There are generally 2 classifications of kitsune—zenko (good foxes) and yako (outsider foxes)—although regional differences typically add more. Zenko are benevolent, celestial foxes associated with Inari (see below), and are sometimes called Inari foxes. These kitsune are usually white, considered a color of good omen; black kitsune, and kitsune with 9 tails, are also considered good omens. Yako tend to be mischievous and even malicious. Kitsune supposedly gain the ability to assume human form one they reach 100 years of age, although some tales put the number at 50. Other supernatural abilities include but are not limited to: possession; mouths or tails that generate fire or lightning (kitsune-bi or fox-fire); willful manifestation of others' dreams; flight; invisibility; creation of illusions so elaborate as to be indistinguishable from reality; ability to bend time and space; drive people mad; and take fantastic shapes or forms, such as a second moon in the night sky.

kappa: a type of water sprite also known by Kawatarō (river-boy) or Kawako (river-child), kappa are said to inhabit the rivers and ponds in Japan. The most notable characteristic of the kappa is the water-filled depression atop their heads, said to be how the kappa gain their strength and power, or alternately, their ability to walk on land. If confronted with a kappa, one can exploit this weakness by bowing low; kappa are very decorous creatures, and unable to not return a low bow, even at the consequence of losing the water atop their heads. They are mischievous, with pranks ranging from the relatively innocent to the downright malevolent. Kappa are notorious for liking to kidnap children so as to devour their entrails (via the anus), although they will take adults too. They can be helpful, however; kappa are said to possess a great deal of medical knowledge (it s said kappa were the ones to teach humans how to set bones), and may befriend humans in exchange for gifts and offerings, particularly cucumbers (Japanese parents sometimes write the names of their children or their own names on cucumbers and then chuck them into kappa-infested waters so that the kappa there will leave the family to bathe peacefully).

yūrei: faint soul or dim spirit, roughly analogous to the Western ghost. Yūrei are a type of youkai (see below), thought to be spirits kept from a peaceful afterlife either through unfinished business or an abrupt, violent end. They are characterized by white kimono, black hair, hands which dangle lifelessly from the wrists and a distinct lack of legs and feet. Hitodama (floating flames) usually accompany the appearance of yūrei. Yūrei don't wander, typically haunting a specific place (perhaps where they died or were buried) or person (perhaps their murderer or a loved one). They usually appear between 2 and 3 am, Japan's witching hour.

youkai: technically, kitsune and yūrei are members of the youkai "family," and shouldn't actually have separate entries, but whatever. The rough approximation for youkai in English tends to be best understood as "demon, monster, or spirit." It's a catch-all term for anything with a spiritual or supernatural power. Japanese folklorists and historians define youkai as "supernatural or unaccountable phenomena," thus allowing for creatures as different as oni and kitsune to share the same classification. They were popular ukiyo-e subjects during the Edo period, and several youkai thought to have legendary origins (like _Kojiki_ origins) were actually the brainchildren of Edo era ukiyo-e artists.

Inari: a Shinto deity closely associated with kitsune, so much so that folklore now states that kitsune are Inari's messengers. In some cases, Inari is believed to manifest as a kitsune.

tanuki: the Japanese raccoon dog, and a part of Japanese folklore since ancient times. The legendary tanuki is jolly and mischievous, a master at disguising himself via shapeshifting, but also somewhat gullible and absentminded. The defining tanuki trait is a pair of unusually large testicles, found on wild tanuki, and a trait that carried over into legend; tanuki are sometimes depicted with their oversized testicles slung over their shoulders like travelers' packs, or drumming on them. The tanuki's oversized belly has replaced the testicles in contemporary art as the tanuki's impromptu drum of choice. There are several shrines which claim to have had priests who were actually tanuki among their ranks, and one of the most famous tanuki folktales, _Bunbuku chagama_, has a tanuki disguised as a teapot, and this a disguise one sees in many tanuki tales, which is perhaps why shapeshifting tanuki are also sometimes thought to be tsukumogami (see below).

rooster: one of the 12 animals of the Chinese (and Japanese) Zodiac. The story behind the zodiac, at least form the Buddhist perspective, says that Buddha summoned all of the animals of the earth to come to him before his departure from Earth, but only 12 showed up. To reward those who had come to him, he named a year after each of them, the years given to them in the order that they had arrived.

dragon: a Japanese water deity associated with rainfall and bodies of water, and arguably the most famous of all Asian symbols. Dragons have been a part of Japanese folklore since ancient times, and several of the stories were imported over from China (as is the case with the tengu). The Dragon god, Ryūjin, ruler of the oceans and seas, is said to live in a castle under the sea, controlling the rise and fall of the tides with the tide jewels kanju (tide-ebbing jewel) and manju (tide-flowing jewel). Dragons are thought to be very old and powerful creatures, and are considered lucky. Dragon lore is typically associated with Buddist temples, and there are a slew of temples all over Japan dedicated to dragons.

karasu tengu: tengu (heavenly gods) are a class of mountain/forest spirit, and like tanuki have been a part of Japanese folklore since ancient times. There are 2 types: karasu, or crow, tengu, the most ancient type of tengu, and yamabushi, or mountain monk, tengu. As one would expect from the name, the karasu tengu has avian characteristics, wings and a beak being the most common. Today, karasu are thought to serve as messengers for the yamabushi tengu, which is the tengu version most people are familiar with (red face and abnormally long nose). Supernatural powers include shapeshifting into human or animal form, the ability to speak to humans without moving their mouths, ability to move instantly from place to place without using their wings, and the ability to appear uninvited into anyone's dreams. Additionally, they are patrons of the martial arts, known as skilled warriors and legendary mischief-makers, with targets traditionally being monks who had strayed from their paths and arrogant samurai.

tsukumogami: a class of youkai which consist of ordinary household items which come to life on the anniversary of their 100th birthday. Modern things cannot become tsukumogami.

zorigami: a type of tsukumogami. In this case, a clock that has reached and passed the 100 year mark.

biwa-yanagi: a type of tsukumogami. In this case, a biwa (Japanese short-necked, fretted lute) that has reached and passed the 100 year mark.

nekomata: "forked cat," with reference to the cat's tail. A nekomata usually starts out as a bakeneko (monster cat), capable of such feats as walking upright on its hind legs, talking and assuming human form. If the cat's tail is allowed to become long enough, it will split off into two, upon which it becomes known as a nekomata in deference to this trait.

Wolves in Japan: wolves were afforded a benign place in Japanese mythology, in contrast to the place of the wolf in the majority of Western folklore. Clan leader Fujiwara no Hidehira was said to be raised by wolves, and the Ainu believed they were born from the union of a wolf-like creature and a goddess. Talismans and charms adorned with images of wolves were thought to protect against fire, disease, and other calamities, and brought fertility to agarian communities and to couples hoping to have children. The wolf is often symbolically linked with the mountain kami in Shinto.

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_Ugetsu Monogatari: Tales of Moonlight and Rain_

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_I.: Mukashi mukashi_

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_Twenty years later_

Takagi Tokio had been living with the extraordinary for so long that she was used to it.

Well. Sort of, anyway.

She saw things no one else could see, knew things no one else knew. She sometimes thought maybe they followed her around, the kitsune and the kappa and the yūrei and the youkai and all the rest, _because_ she could see them—because she was an adult and she could see them, when no other adult she'd ever met had given even the faintest inkling that an entire world, invisible to them, thrived and went on about its business around them.

It was like being in a very exclusive club.

Though some of the benefits were lacking.

Like being subject to the trickster antics of kitsune; when she'd still been very young, a kitsune had attached itself to her father's household, and had expressed surprise and delight when it had realized that she could see it. When she had finally left her father's house, her kitsune friend—who had occasionally gotten her in trouble with its mischievous antics, because her parents didn't believe in "fairy tales"—had been sad to see her go, and had wanted to follow her. She had asked it to stay with her parents, protect and watch over them for her, and only a promise that she would come to visit often had made the kitsune agree.

It was just as well—she had a new guardian spirit watching over her, Takani Megumi. Megumi had appeared as an impossibly lovely young woman, but Tokio hadn't been fooled by the glamour for a second (though it was, she would readily admit, a very good one). She had been surprised to see Megumi was actually a white fox, which placed her as one of Inari's kitsune, and wondered what one of Inari's servants was doing watching over _her_, of all people. Megumi had never answered that question, only smiling in that mischievous way of hers and laughing that mischievous laugh of hers, and Tokio rolled her eyes and decided not to bother pushing the subject.

_Kitsune_, she'd thought dryly, half amused and half irritated.

In addition to her vulpine guardian spirit, she had picked up another—a tanuki who called herself Kamiya Kaoru. Kaoru, a pretty, vivacious girl who was occasionally a little too sensitive and quick to anger, had bumped into her on campus in a manner a tad too accidental to be a coincidence. A few more "coincidental" meetings had fostered a budding friendship, and though she and Megumi often fought (it was Tokio's opinion that Megumi took far too much delight in teasing Kaoru, not that the kitsune listened to a word she said), the three of them had been inseparable ever since. Kaoru, like Megumi, hadn't been very surprised when Tokio said she could see through her glamour (it was also a very good one, but it, like Megumi's, was no match for Tokio's otherworldly eyes).

Her friendship with the kitsune and the tanuki had led to friendships with a Rooster and a Dragon: Sagara Sanosuke and Himura Kenshin, respectively.

Of the two, Sano was the one she found most bizarre—he was really a karasu tengu, but tended to look more like a rooster than a crow. When she had asked him why a _rooster_ of all things, he'd shrugged in that lazy way of his and said,

"Why not?"

That tended to be Sano's life philosophy, as it turned out.

Tokio hadn't realized that roosters had any sort of special meaning. She knew they were one of the twelve animals blessed by Buddha, but aside from that distinction, they weren't, as far as she'd been aware, imbued with any particular powers. Sano had never elaborated on the circumstances, and she gathered it was not a subject open for discussion, so she had dropped it.

Kenshin, Tokio occasionally thought, hadn't started out his life as a Dragon. He didn't have a particular affinity for water, which Tokio thought was incredibly odd for a Dragon. Dragons were water spirits, after all: they lived in rivers and streams—the Dragon god Ryūjin had a palace _under the sea_, for crying out loud. But while Kenshin physically had Dragon traits (under his glamour; over it, however, his eyes occasionally flashed gold when he was annoyed or angered), he didn't _feel_ like a Dragon.

And Tokio had met enough of them that she knew how they were supposed to feel.

Kenshin was equally reticent to explain his circumstances to her, and she had desisted as soon as she had concluded she wouldn't be getting anything out of him. So she'd let him and the rest of her friends have their secrets, not particularly bothered or annoyed by the lack of answers. They were all a great deal more powerful than she was—they owed her no more explanation than they wished to give. The fact was, they'd been quite generous as it was, so Tokio contented herself with what they had shared.

As with the girls, the men were quite unsurprised that she saw them for what they were, which made Tokio think that all four of them had known she would be able to tell they weren't human. None offered either protest or confirmation of this belief, so Tokio had decided to stop asking and just draw her own conclusions; the other world, she had learned, did things differently from the human one, and it was entirely possible that her ability to see things only children should see was well-known.

It would explain why she had collected the assortment of friends she had, anyway.

For the most part, she had gotten used to this particular ability, and of the way it tended to distance her from regular people.

That was one of the lacking benefits of being a member of this exclusive club.

It was as if her strangeness was tattooed onto her skin, visible to everyone. There was something about her that made other people awkward around her, and that awkwardness ensured that for the most part, she was surrounded by these extraordinary beings, which only alienated her from regular people even more. She couldn't relate to other people—how could she, when her world was populated by the stuff of folktales and legends and fairy tales?

She couldn't even have a normal love life, or a love life _period_. She was too odd, and men didn't want odd girls to be their girlfriends. It didn't help that Sano and Kenshin could both be overbearingly overprotective, and while she knew they meant well, it irritated her. She'd never done anything more intimate with a guy than make-out.

At this rate, she was likely to die a virgin, and it wasn't necessarily a state Tokio was looking forward to.

She didn't just pick up animal spirit friends, though. She had also noticed that an inordinate amount of tsukumogami flocked to her. As a child, she had been amused and charmed by these spirits; as an adult, she was less amused and charmed, though she bore their harmless pranks with patience. It was the way of these spirits, after all. And though it could be annoying when the umbrella went missing from its post by the door, or the tea kettle hid away, she at least knew they'd moved themselves; her mother had always gotten very cross when the clock in the formal room "was moved," never suspecting it was in fact a zorigami that had its own ideas on where it ought to be, ideas which were quite the opposite of her mother's, as it turned out. Luckily, she had never been blamed for the zorigami's moving around, and she and the old clock in fact had gotten on splendidly when she'd been at home. When she visited her parents now, she always made sure to slip off to say hello to the clock, and her mother, having noticed and misinterpreted her interest in it, had said Tokio was free to take it, and that maybe it would keep her father from moving the thing.

The zorigami had had a very good laugh at that, but had expressed no desire to leave with Tokio just yet, and in truth, Tokio didn't want yet another item with a mind of its own in her home.

She had enough trouble as it was with cognizant umbrellas and lanterns and tea kettles and one very stubborn biwa-yanagi that insisted its place was not in the corner Tokio had it in, but with her futon.

The only _normal_ friends she had were Sekihara Tae and her twin sister Sae, and they hardly counted; the sisters either blithely ignored or honestly didn't notice (it was hard to tell which was the truth) the inaccessible, unexplainable _weirdness_ that followed Tokio wherever she went. They had, in fact, been the ones to present her with Gin, her cat—or better said, her _nekomata_. Tokio had been incredulous when she'd seen the cat and known it immediately for what it was, but it was clear the sisters were unaware of what they'd presented their friend with. Tokio had accepted the nekomata (she didn't have a choice really, since she didn't think telling the truth was a good idea, and the sisters would be able to tell if she was lying because she was so horrifically _bad_ at it), and Gin had proved a fantastic pet who knew enough to keep his tails together to create the illusion that he had one; not everyone who came to visit her was as oblivious as the Sekihara sisters, after all.

Yes, Takagi Tokio had gotten used to her life.

That did not mean, however, that she was especially happy with it.

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"Sano has an unfair advantage over us," Kaoru complained, glaring at the man in question's back.

"Oh?" Tae asked, cocking her head curiously at Kaoru. "What's that?"

_The fact that he's a mountain spirit_, Tokio thought in amusement, but kept silent.

"Longer legs," she said instead, smiling as Kenshin helped Kaoru navigate a particularly tricky bit of the trail they were on.

The Tanuki and the Dragon had been growing closer in recent months, and Tokio rather approved; Kenshin could be gloomy sometimes, and Kaoru did a good job of lightening him up in a way Sano—unanimously considered Kenshin's inseparable friend—couldn't do.

Up ahead, she heard the Kitsune needle the Tengu, and her smile widened. Megumi loved to tease Sano nearly as much as she loved to tease Kaoru, though Tokio wasn't sure why—Sano never responded as vehemently as Kaoru did, and most of the time, Megumi's teasing went over his head, usually because he couldn't be bothered to pay attention. She thought maybe the Kitsune liked the oblivious Tengu.

Or maybe she was reading too much into it—Megumi teased everyone pretty evenly, after all.

The group of them—Kaoru, Kenshin, Megumi, Sano, Tae, Sae, and Tokio—were on holiday at Chichibu, entirely because of Tokio. There was a shrine there, Mitsumine Shrine, devoted to the Wolf god, and since childhood Tokio had been fascinated by wolves. She had never been able to explain why this was, and when she thought about it, she got the impression of amber eyes—_wolf eyes_—but nothing more. Her friends happily obliged her obsession, and Tokio had hundreds of talismans and charms adorned with images of wolves in her tiny Kyoto apartment. Currently, she was wearing one of those gifts, a wolf talisman necklace Megumi had given her some time ago, and it was the one talisman that never left her.

They had already visited the shrine, and Tokio had left her offering for the Wolf god. Sano, ever the Tengu, had suggested they explore the surrounding mountains a little before they returned to their rooms at the inn near the shrine, and no one had been adverse to the idea, and so here they were, hiking up a faint trail.

Tokio gloried in her environment: the air was cleaner here than in Kyoto, and the wildness vibrated in the air. Her nose, always acute, caught every nuance in the green scent of the forest around her, and her sharp ears seemed to catch every little noise; if not for the feeling that being in the mountains amplified her hearing, she wouldn't have noticed it.

She took a moment to grin at the absurdity that Kaoru, a Tanuki, would be having a harder time in the forest than she was.

But then, Tokio had always been unusually surefooted, even as a small child.

"You know, grain farmers used to leave food offerings near wolves' dens," Sano said over his shoulder.

"To beg the wolves to protect their crops from wild boars and deer," Tokio said with a grin, and Sano grinned back. "Did you think I didn't know, Sano?"

"Oh I know you did," he assured. "I only said anything because I heard rumors that there's a wolf den up here somewhere."

Tokio perked up at that announcement.

"Really?" she asked excitedly, and Megumi groaned.

"Good going Rooster," she muttered; Tokio ignored her.

"Do you have an idea where?" she asked.

"Yeah," Sano said. "You guys didn't think I didn't know where I was going, did you?"

"Yes," the group at large replied, and Sano glared at them.

"Thanks for the endorsement," he snapped.

"Sano, your sense of direction is nonexistent," Kaoru pointed out.

"You've gotten lost going to class on campus," Tae added.

"And going home," Kenshin offered.

Sano's jaw dropped, betrayal clearly written on his face as he stared at his so-called friend.

"_Kenshin_!" he said.

Kenshin shrugged, though he had the grace to be apologetic:

"Sorry Sano," he said sincerely.

"Truth hurts, eh Rooster?" Megumi taunted with a smug look.

"Quiet you," Sano said, tossing her a bitter look.

"But you're sure you know where the den is?" Tokio cut in, heading off one of Sano and Megumi's infrequent but invariably nasty arguments.

"_Yes_," Sano said tightly.

"Then lead away," Tokio said, and Sano's face brightened a little at the trust she placed in him.

"Right," he said, continuing on his way.

"Sure that's a good idea?" Megumi asked, falling into step beside her.

"Absolutely," Tokio said immediately and with conviction, and the tense set to Sano's shoulders at Megumi's question relaxed.

The group continued on with Sano in the lead, conversation once more flowing easily throughout. They finally made it to flatter terrain, which made hiking less of an ordeal, though Tokio noticed Kenshin stayed close to Kaoru anyway.

"Oh!" Sae said suddenly. "Look!" She pointed to something off to the right, and when Tokio followed Sae's finger she saw a great black beast watching them.

It was a second before she realized what it was.

_Wolf eyes_, she thought, breath hitching when her eyes met eerily intelligent amber ones.

The wolf stood on a little ridge slightly higher than where they were at. Its ears were erect and forward, and it stood stiff and tall. And it was staring at Tokio intently—she could tell, even from a distance.

"What is that?" Tae asked nervously, clutching her sister's arm.

"A wolf," Tokio whispered.

"That's impossible!" Tae protested. "There aren't any wolves in Japan, there haven't been for a century!"

"Maybe it's a big feral dog?" Sae offered, still watching the beast.

"That's a wolf," Tokio said firmly. "It's too big to be a dog, even at this distance."

She didn't notice the way Megumi and Sano exchanged a speaking glance.

"Japanese wolves went extinct during Meiji, Tokio," Tae insisted.

"There are wolf sightings reported all the time," Tokio said, her gaze still firmly on the wolf's.

_Why does this seem familiar?_ she wondered. _Why do I feel like I've done this before?_

"Sightings don't mean there're wolves," Sae pointed out, "just that some people think they've seen them."

"Then maybe they saw gods," Tokio said, taking a few steps toward the wolf.

"Tokio!" Tae yelped. "What are you doing?!"

"Tokio-dono," Kenshin cautioned.

"Don't worry," Tokio said absently, still walking slowly toward the wolf, who hadn't moved, whose gaze still remained locked with her own. "It's fine."

If anybody said anything else, Tokio didn't hear them; she had tuned them all out, too intent on slowly getting as close to the wolf—or perhaps Wolf god was the better term, because it seemed somehow right to call it that—as it would allow her.

_Or maybe_, a part of her thought distantly, _Megumi-san was using her magic again, letting me see the Wolf god for myself without anyone interfereing._

It wouldn't have been the first time Tokio had benefited from her friend's power.

She stopped when she was twenty feet away; the way the Wolf god narrowed its eyes told her she shouldn't come any further, so she stopped and after a moment slowly lowered herself to her knees, tucking her heels under her so she could sit back on them, then slowly bowing, her forehead resting on the backs of her hands only because she didn't want to get dirt of her forehead. She sat this way for a long time, and then the Wolf god was at her side, smelling of magic and wildness, and she moved her head just enough to bare her throat.

The Wolf god sniffed her, then gently bumped its snout against her neck before turning and loping off the way it had come, and Tokio sat up slowly and watched it disappear into the forest, completely awed by the experience, and ignoring the more rational part of her mind that said she was insane, how could she have done something so stupid and foolish, approaching a wild animal the way she had—

Tokio suddenly became aware that her friends were gathered around her, Sae and Tae crouched on either side of her, shaking her, trying to get her to snap out of her trance, and that was when she realized the scolding was coming from them and not from her mind.

"Did you guys see that?" she asked, still watching the forest the Wolf god had disappeared into.

"You're crazy!" Tae burst out. "What in the world would possess you to sit out in the middle of a field in front of a wild animal?!"

Tokio ignored her; she occasionally forgot that Tae and Sae were normal humans, and couldn't see what she saw. She instead looked up at Kenshin and Kaoru and Sano and Megumi, her odd, silvery colored eyes that just made her even odder asking them if they had seen what she had seen. Kenshin and Kaoru both nodded, smiling widely; Megumi and Sano's smiles were smaller and shadowed, as if they knew something she didn't, and Tokio wondered what she'd missed.

_I'll ask later tonight when we get back to the inn_, she decided as she turned back to watch the silent forest, putting the question aside to hold onto her awe for a while longer.


	3. II: Oguchi no Magami

**A/N:** You know that little lie I told on my LJ, how this wouldn't be posted any later than Tuesday?

…

…

_Yeah, about that…_

Anyway. Unforeseeable circumstances and all that. So, to make it up to both my Faithful Readership and Haji (I'm sorry this celebration of your birthday's so late, Saitou-san!), you get a double dose of _Ugetsu_.

Werd, son.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own _Rurouni Kenshin_, _Ugetsu Monogatari_ or any of the tales referenced, however obliquely, within.

* * *

Words To Watch Out For:

Ōguchi no Magami: "Large-mouthed Pure God." The name given to wolves by the Japanese. A term of reverence, if not affection, afforded to wolves especially from farming communities and upland villages.

* * *

_Ugetsu Monogatari: Tales of Moonlight and Rain_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

_II.: Ōguchi no Magami_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

"I wasn't expecting him to come here," Megumi said. "Were you?"

Beside her, Sano shook his head, gaze still on the mountain.

"No," he said. "That was odd."

They were sitting on the old style porch outside of Sano and Kenshin's room, comparing notes about the afternoon's sighting. Kenshin, ever perceptive, had found some other place to be; Megumi had instructed Kaoru to keep Tokio and Tae and Sae in the hot springs as long as possible. Tokio was suspicious enough about their reactions to the Wolf god, without her accidentally hearing them and confirming whatever she thought.

"He hasn't come near her since she was little," Megumi said, turning her head to look at the mountain as well. "Do you think it means something?"

"Not sure," Sano said. "We haven't heard anything," he added, referring to the Tengu in the surrounding forest; he'd consulted them on the group's way down the mountain, on the pretense that he needed to "water a tree."

"He isn't exactly known for saying what's on his mind," Megumi pointed out.

"Still a mountain spirit," Sano said. "Maybe he's been paying closer attention to her than we thought."

"Maybe," Megumi said, thinking of the offering—a small dish of red beans and rice—that Tokio had left for the Wolf god at the shrine.

It seemed like such a silly idea, that he should appear to Tokio, who had asked for nothing, when he had remained unseen to others, the ones who had begged for his help.

_But they are not his precious thing_, Megumi thought.

And that could make all the difference.

"I wonder why he'd ask you to guard her, though," Sano said, frowning.

"Inari-dono asked me," Megumi corrected. "The story goes that a favor was owed to the Wolf god."

"That's not the point—if he's watching over her, seems like he wouldn't need you," Sano said.

"I don't think he's watching over her, exactly," Megumi said, thinking briefly of the necklace around Tokio's throat, the talisman that lay over her collarbone even now, and how it had been a gift from the Wolf god himself, given to Inari-dono and entrusted to Megumi, who had delivered it to Tokio. "Maybe another mountain spirit told him—?"

She didn't share her own suspicions about the Wolf god's appearance, mostly because she herself didn't take them altogether seriously.

_Would being his precious thing really be enough to bring him to the girl?_ she wondered.

"The Tengu would have heard about it," Sano said, shaking his head.

"Coincidence?" Megumi offered, even though she didn't believe it:

_There's no—_

"—such thing," Sano said. "Not with gods."

"Then he definitely knew she was here," Megumi said, strangely unsettled by the conclusion.

"He knew," Sano agreed.

"But we won't know what that means until he wants us to. That's the Wolf god's way," Megumi said.

Sano's frown deepened, but he said nothing.

He didn't have to: he knew she was right.

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

Tokio sat on the old style porch outside her room, waiting for her hair to dry so she could go to sleep, even though she wasn't really tired.

She was still awed, all these hours later, to have been in the presence of the Wolf god.

And it _had_ been the Wolf god—she felt it deep down in her bones, and being that she had a lot of experience with things of a supernatural nature, she figured she was qualified to know the difference.

She wondered, not for the first time, what had made the Wolf god show itself to her. She hadn't asked for anything at Mitsumine Shrine, had only left an offering, a little token, for it. She didn't need good health, or a good harvest, or protection from disease or fire, or fertility.

_That would require actually having a partner, for starters_, she thought with a frown.

She brooded over that for a moment before she firmly resolved to not let gloomy things like her inherent strangeness take away from what she'd experienced earlier. After all, if she were normal, there was every chance that she wouldn't have been able to fully appreciate her meeting with the Wolf god, the way Tae and Sae had been unable to appreciate it—they still thought it had been some big, feral dog.

But it was hard for her to leave that train of thought entirely behind. It was something that had been weighing on her for a while, pressing down on her for some time, an unpleasant feeling that more and more overshadowed any of the pleasure she might have found in her dealings with the Other World.

"Maybe I should have asked the Wolf god for something after all," she muttered sourly.

Tokio stared moodily out into the darkness, eyes trained on the dark mountains that loomed over the little inn. It should have been terrifying—because there really was nothing at all comforting about the mountains—but she wasn't scared, and it had nothing to do with knowing that a Dragon, a Fox, a Tanuki and a Tengu were little more than a yell away. Since she had been small, the things that should have been scary hadn't been: not the yūrei, not the youkai, not the tsukumogami.

None of it.

It was as if she were immune to them, and while a lot of people might have considered it a blessing…Tokio hated it.

Because it meant that these creatures were _her_ normal, and only hers—she had never met another human being that could see what she saw, and really, she wasn't sure that there _was_ another human being who could see what she saw.

For all she knew, she was alone in a world of supernatural beings.

"This vacation isn't helping," she said wearily after a moment, closing her eyes with a sigh.

Lately, her oddness had been of particular frustration to her. Lately, her otherness had been doing more and more to separate her from other humans, other mortals, and Tokio was getting very close to her breaking point. She had hoped that going on this trip would cheer her up, that maybe visiting the Wolf god—to whom she had always felt an odd sort of affinity—would help her, but so far, all it had done was make the feelings worse.

Maybe, just maybe, if she had someone she could confide in, someone who wasn't from the Other World…

_Not likely, Tokio_, she thought, opening her eyes and gazing out over the yard tiredly, not seeing anything.

She had no idea how long she sat that way, and she had no idea how much longer she might have sat out there that way, if the Wolf god hadn't appeared again.

Between one blink and the next the great black beast with the ancient amber eyes was sitting in the courtyard, gaze trained on her, and Tokio was startled by its sudden appearance.

"Oh!" she cried, jumping back.

The Wolf god tilted its head to one side and considered her, and Tokio got the impression that she had amused it. They eyed each other in silence for a time, and then the Wolf god stood and turned and began placidly ambling across the courtyard, toward the gate to the inn. It stopped and looked back at her in a fashion best described as expectant, and Tokio gathered that she was to follow it.

"Can I at least grab some shoes?" she asked after a moment's hesitation, and the Wolf god turned around to face her, then sat back on its haunches. She took that to mean she was allowed to, and she bobbed her head before hurrying into her room to grab the first pair of shoes she saw.

She stuffed her feet into them, then bounded off the porch and toward the Wolf god, who once more rose and turned and began for the gate again, pace unhurried.

_This is crazy!_ she thought, heart beating furiously in her chest. _I should tell __**someone**__, at least, just in case they come looking for me_…

But her guide showed no signs of being willing to wait for her to find someone to inform of the fact that she was going to follow the Wolf god into the mountains.

…Er, then again, given that that was about the only story she had at the moment, she decided it was just as well. Because saying something like that was bound to require some explanations, and she was pretty sure the Wolf god wasn't going to hang around waiting on her to placate her friends. So she dismissed the thought and simply tried to keep up with the Wolf god's lope, which ate up the distance between the inn and the mountains as if it were nothing.

Tokio was only a little surprised to find that keeping up with the Wolf god wasn't nearly as difficult as she'd been expecting—she had, after all, been quite gifted in the way of stamina ever since she could remember.

They reached the base of the mountain, but the Wolf god showed no signs of stopping, and back into the dense forest Tokio went, doggedly trailing behind the great black beast that would have melted into the gloomy undergrowth, had it not been so damn big.

No way this was a regular wolf. Or even a wolf-dog. It had to be a god—not only because of the size, but because there was a very human-like intelligence in its eyes, and wolves were supposed to be quite sly and clever, yes, but they weren't supposed to convey their thoughts—their fully-formed, complete thoughts—through their eyes the way this one did.

They went deeper, and the woods were growing thicker now. The Wolf god slipped through it all as if it wasn't there, but Tokio had a tougher time. Eventually she gave up and trotted after him with an arm up to block branches and keep them from smacking her in the face and catching on her clothing a little.

It was something Kenshin had taught her, and something that had helped her place how old her odd friend might be.

That was an old samurai trick, back when Japan had been more densely covered with forest and less cluttered with people.

Tokio had no idea how long they'd been going, but she was starting to get tired, and more than a little anxious; they were going awfully far up the mountain, and though she had faith the Wolf god meant her no harm…was it really necessary to go this deep into the forest? Weren't they quite far enough away from…well, _everything_?

But the Wolf god kept going, and she knew it wouldn't be stopping until it fancied stopping, so she resigned herself to following where it led until it didn't feel like leading anymore.

It seemed to Tokio that there should be mists rolling in and covering the ground, but a moment later she snorted and shook her head at her own fancy.

At long last, the Wolf god stopped in a hollow, and Tokio paused as well and leaned over, braced her hands on her knees and caught her breath, before finally straightening and looking around. It was then that her eye sight—unusually sharp for a human—caught sight of what looked like a cave, long since overgrown by grass and partially obscured by undergrowth, and after a moment of staring, she smiled as she realized that she'd found the wolf den Sano had been looking for all afternoon (Megumi would never let him hear the end of it for not finding it, she knew). She looked back at the Wolf god, still smiling.

_Well_, she thought wryly, _it's no wonder I found it._

The Wolf god looked quite pleased with her reaction, form where it sat on its haunches watching her; those intelligent eyes gleamed with satisfaction and warm affection, and again Tokio was struck by an overwhelming sensation of déjà vu.

_Why does this seem so familiar?_ she wondered again.

And then suddenly the Wolf god was no longer a wolf, but a man.

"O-oh!" Tokio breathed, startled by the change, her eyes going wide.

The man smiled—smirked, really. He was a very tall and lean man, long sable hair in a high queue, robes reminiscent of long, long ago. He was quite magnificent looking, all in all, as befitted a god.

And those amber eyes—wolf eyes—remained.

They watched each other in silence for some time, and the feeling that this had happened before was stronger now, much stronger. She thought she _must_ have seen him somewhere before…

Tokio suddenly remembered herself and bowed low to the Wolf god, and was surprised at the rumbling chuckle that came from him.

"You've deferred to me once today already, precious thing," he said, sounding amused but nevertheless pleased with her second show of regard. "It was enough."

_Precious thing._ The words sent an electric shock down her spine. She'd heard that endearment before. It had been a very long time ago, but that was the only reason she remembered the words: it had been the first and last time—until tonight—someone had used it on her.

His voice sounded familiar too: it was a cadence too much like a growl to be human, deep and low, and that was why she'd remembered it, because it was so strange.

"I met you once before," she murmured, her surety in her voice.

He inclined his head elegantly—she'd expect no less from a god.

"Where?" she pressed, and he smiled faintly.

"The answer will come to you, if you think on it," he replied, and Tokio concluded that he wanted her to remember on her own.

_Why?_ she wondered. _Did something important happen?_

He seemed to sense her confusion; he nodded and reached into one of his sleeves and pulled something from it—she couldn't tell what, it was too small or his hand was too large—and then tossed it to her. She barely managed to catch it, surprised by the throw, and she had an impression of something spherical and red.

_An apple?_ she thought, before her hands finally closed around it and she felt something firm and rubbery under her fingertips.

A ball. It was a little red rubber ball, exactly like the one she'd had as a little girl. Tokio stared at it, and remembered in a vague sort of way, a strange day at the park when she was still quite young, perhaps four, perhaps five, possibly even six, but certainly no older than that. A man had made her father very nervous—Tokio remembered feeling shocked and hurt when he'd yelled at her for touching the man's cheek (_warm under her little fingers, inhumanly warm_) when he'd yanked her back from the man…

The man with the wolf eyes.

"At the park," she said suddenly, knowing he was the same man. "I was much younger, and you were there. My father was afraid of you."

"But you were not, Sada," the Wolf god said, seeming to relish saying the name, and Tokio flinched a little to hear him call her by it—the one she hadn't gone by since she'd begun school, the one only her parents used anymore.

"You knew what I was, precious thing," he said, smiling at her warmly. "But you were fearless. Your father, like most adults, stopped believing in us long ago. He still observes the Old Ways, but without belief what he offers us are empty gestures. We survive through children. They have enormous power, and they _believe_, so fervently…"

There was something wistful in his voice, as if he were remembering a time when gods ruled supreme.

Perhaps he was.

"Because they don't believe—because we've become fairy tales and legends—adults don't see us for what we are when we are among them," he continued after a moment, voice once again low and deep, lacking anything but the demand for respect and reverence that came with being a god. "We seem like strange, dangerous people. They do not recognize us as the children do. They only recognize that we are not human like them when we walk among them. We are not even allowed the courtesy to have them fear us for our power—they fear us only because we're different.

"But the children know us, love us, fear us when we must be feared. Above all, always, they revere us, and that is why we love the mortal children so well. It's why we protect them, and why their growing up and forgetting us saddens us so."

"But I never forgot," Tokio said, and the Wolf god watched her, then smiled faintly.

"No," he agreed, "you did not."

"Why?" she asked, only half aware that she was holding the little rubber ball to her chest the way she used to when she was small.

"Gods choose a child to give a gift to," he said. "The gift of remembrance. As this child grows, he or she continues to be able to see and interact with the Other World. As time goes on, the child may receive other gifts."

Tokio felt suddenly cold. Horribly, bitterly cold.

It took a moment for her to realize that the chill she felt had absolutely nothing to do with the air around her.

"Like a particularly sensitive nose or remarkable agility?" she asked, throat dry.

The wolf eyes gleamed approvingly; Tokio felt sick with dread.

"Yes."

"_You_," she said weakly. "It was _you_. _You're_ the reason why I see things no one else can see—"

"Yes."

"—why youkai and tsukumogami are so drawn to me—"

"Yes."

"—why _I'm not normal_."

The Wolf god's eyes narrowed—whether at the sharpness of her tone or the words, she couldn't have said.

And in all honesty, at that moment, she couldn't have cared less.

"Normal," he repeated with a vague sneer.

"Yes, _normal_," she said hotly. "You made me different—"

"I made you better," he said sharply.

"In whose estimation?" she demanded, and a very ugly look crossed his face and made her falter—only for a moment.

"In _my_ estimation," he said tightly, his warm indulgence with her gone, and she suddenly felt its loss keenly. "I saw you and it pained me to know such a charming child, with such captivating eyes, would one day cease to remember us."

"Remember _you_," she snapped, infuriated at his highhandedness—he'd waltzed into her life, made her as good as a freak and then waltzed right back out. And now he waltzed back in twenty years later, long after the damage had been done, and expected her to _thank_ him?! "You wanted me to remember you. That's why I'm so fascinated by wolves—you _manufactured_ it."

"_Do not accuse a god of such petty motivations!_"

His voice was thunderous, furious, and scared her enough that she immediately shut her mouth.

"If I'd wanted you so badly I could have stolen you, and there wouldn't have been anything your parents or anyone else could have done about it," he said, glaring coldly. "But I only wanted the precious thing I'd found in the park to stay that way. _Clearly_, I overestimated your worthiness for such a gift."

The barb stung, white-hot and insistent. As much unhappiness and frustration as her gift could bring—and had brought—her, it was upsetting to be called undeserving. Which was perhaps why she said what she said next:

"I never asked for your so-called gift! It's brought me nothing but aggravation! I can't even have a normal life because I'm too strange! You've given me a curse not a gift, and if I could give it back right now, I would, and gladly!"

The silence that descended upon them was deafening. Tokio met the Wolf god's hard, cold gaze and felt herself waffle briefly before she steeled herself.

"I have picked an unworthy mortal indeed to gift," the Wolf god said flatly at long last, and Tokio flinched. "Very well. You wish to be common? _Normal_? Then you may have your wish."

There was a flash of something in his gaze that she didn't recognize right away; it came and went so quickly that she nearly thought she'd imagined seeing anything at all.

But recognition followed swiftly, and Tokio knew she hadn't imagined it—the hurt that had flickered so briefly in his eyes was too poignant to be imagined.

Tokio knew a moment of profound regret.

Then, only darkness.


	4. III: Nemawashi

**A/N:** Part Two of a Two Part Post.

Been awhile since we seen one of these, eh?

Also, some links, after a fashion. Because some very talented artists at dA have managed to capture what I see in my head when I think of Sano, Megumi, Kaoru and Kenshin in their supernatural forms. Just replace the words in the parentheses with the appropriate…thing.

Sano: "Tengu," http: (double backslash)kenket(dot)deviantart(dot)com(backslash)art(backslash)Tengu-14323312

Megumi: "kouun no kitsune," http: (double backslash)frostbell(dot)deviantart(dot)com(backslash)art(backslash)kouun-no-kitsune-135928804

Kaoru: "Tanuki," http: (double backslash)nars(dot)deviantart(dot)com(backslash)art(backslash)Tanuki-118626863

Kenshin: "Guardian Dragon," http: (double backslash)junryou-na-kokoro(dot)deviantart(dot)com(backslash)art(backslash)Guardian-Dragon-129861441

Here's another one that captures, quite perfectly, the kind of "costume" I think Meg might wear at a festival taking place at an Inari shrine (there's hundreds of them all over Japan):

"Kitsune," http: (double backslash)rainesz(dot)deviantart(dot)com(backslash)art(backslash)Kitsune-72522154

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own _Rurouni Kenshin_, _Ugetsu Monogatari_ or any of the tales referenced, however obliquely, within.

* * *

Words To Watch Out For:

Nemawashi: a Japanese style of negotiation, or decision making, in which people take care to lay the proper groundwork before a decision is made. I'm being a little generous in my interpretation of it here, but I suppose I could defend it, if I had to. (Definition from: _The Japanese Mind: Understanding Contemporary Japanese Culture_, Davies & Okeno, 2002.)

Sōjōbō: the king of the tengu. Tengu hierarchy is large and dense, so I won't bore you with the details. For right now, Sōjōbō's the only one you really need to be aware of (aside from Sano, naturally).

* * *

_Ugetsu Monogatari: Tales of Moonlight and Rain_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

_III.: Nemawashi_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

Tokio awakened the next morning in her futon at the inn, feeling tired, as if she hadn't slept for as long as she knew she had. There was a faint throbbing in her head too, insistent but not painful. For a long while, she lay there, staring listlessly at the roof, wondering why she felt so tired and why her head felt as if it were full of cobwebs. Finally, she sighed and rose stiffly, grabbing her toiletries.

Maybe washing her face would help that strange, heavy feeling leave her body.

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

Megumi didn't know if she wanted to cry or not.

She had finally been able to relax, finally been able to sleep, when she'd been awakened by an urgent summons.

From Inari-dono.

Megumi had immediately gone to her deity, not bothering to present herself in her true form as was the norm.

The news had been nothing short of shocking.

"He _what_?" she asked weakly, eyes wide.

"The Wolf god has revoked his gifts and favor from your charge," Inari-dono repeated. "As such, you are no longer responsible for her, and are freed of your guardianship."

"The talisman," Megumi said. "The one I was given to present to her for him—"

"Has also been revoked," Inari-dono said.

"But why?" Megumi asked, bewildered and not bothering to hide the fact. "She's his precious thing—"

"She refused his first gift," Inari-dono said. "Quite stringently, in fact."

Megumi went white.

"Oh you stupid girl," she murmured. "What have you done?"

"Something no mere mortal has ever dared," Inari-dono said dryly.

"Denying a god," Megumi muttered, trembling faintly. "Stupid, foolish child."

"Quite," Inari-dono said, rising from the dais. "In any case, as this Inari has said, my kitsune, you are freed of your guardianship."

"Have I been assigned a new one, Inari-dono?" Megumi asked, and Inari-dono paused, dark eyes fastened on her in curiosity.

"A new charge?"

"Yes."

"You have not."

"Then may I stay with Tokio?"

Surprise replaced curiosity, and Inari-dono stared at her, then slowly took a seat once more.

"You wish to stay, my kitsune?"

"Yes."

"How unusual," Inari-dono murmured. "Why do you wish to stay?"

"She's vulnerable now, without the Wolf god's regard," Megumi said. "Being his precious thing protected her from much. She no longer has that protection."

"The child has lost _all_ of the Wolf god's gifts, my kitsune," Inari-dono said. "She no longer knows you for what you truly are. You, or the others. To her, you are all simply odd humans with odd affectations. She will be as oblivious as any other mortal."

Megumi ignored the pang the warning caused; part of what made Tokio so special was her knowledge of the fantastic, her understanding of it, and her easy acceptance of it.

Without any of that, she was simply a nice, sweet young woman with an unusual eye color, and Megumi mourned the loss bitterly in her heart.

"I know, Inari-dono," Megumi said.

"She is not the same child, my kitsune," Inari-dono warned.

Megumi bowed her head.

"I _know_, Inari-dono," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut.

There was a very long pause, and then Inari-dono sighed very softly.

"Very well, my kitsune," the god said. "You may remain with the child."

"My gratitude for your indulgence of this unworthy one is too profound for words, Inari-dono," Megumi said, bowing low in deference.

"As profound as my misgiving," Inari-dono murmured. "Go to the child, my kitsune. You may return when you wish, if I do not call for you beforehand."

"Thank you, Inari-dono, for your generosity."

Inari-dono merely nodded in response, dark eyes solemn and unhappy now.

Megumi had made her way back to earth and to the inn, and had immediately awakened Kaoru.

"What the hell Megumi—" Kaoru crankily began.

"_Quiet_!" Megumi hissed. "Something's happened, and I need you and Ken-san and Birdhead to meet me outside, now. Go wake them. I'll be along in a moment."

Kaoru was immediately awake, and she quickly, and quietly, left to do as Megumi bid. Megumi turned to Tokio's futon and quietly walked to it, then knelt beside her friend and looked her over.

She had felt the difference at once, even at a distance: always, there had been a kind of protective aura around Tokio, even before she'd begun wearing the talisman, which had only increased the strength of the aura. That protection was gone now, as was the talisman; if not for her scent, Megumi wouldn't have known Tokio from Tae or Sae.

The pang returned, and Megumi sat miserably at Tokio's side, trying not to cry while she watched her sleep. She had so hoped that it wasn't as bad as Inari-dono had said it was…

On silent feet, Megumi rose and left the room, and made her way to the three auras waiting for her just outside the inn's walls.

"Well?" Sano asked, arms crossed, when he saw her. "Jou-chan said you'd said something had happened."

"The Wolf god has revoked his gifts and favor from Tokio-chan," Megumi said, voice subdued.

There was a moment of stunned silence.

"What?" Kaoru choked out finally. "Are you serious?"

Megumi nodded, staring dully off into the distance.

"How do you know?" Kenshin asked.

"Inari-dono summoned me. I was told Tokio-chan was no longer under my guardianship."

"_Shit_," Sano muttered.

"This is bad," Kaoru said softly, eyes flickering to Kenshin before returning to Megumi. "Do you know what happened?"

"She refused his gifts."

Sano hissed; Kenshin shut his eyes, mouth a thin line; and Kaoru clasped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide in horror.

"_That_," Kenshin said quietly, at long last opening eyes that glowed gold in the moonlight, "was _very_ foolish of Tokio-dono."

"Why would she do that?" Kaoru asked, wringing her hands.

"I don't know," Megumi said, shaking her head.

"Oi, Fox," Sano said, making Megumi look at him; he was watching her, expression serious. "You said the Wolf god revoked his gifts. Did you mean _all_ of them?"

Megumi nodded, and Sano stared at her, then sighed and closed his eyes, shoulders slumping.

"What…what does that mean?" Kaoru asked nervously, gaze flickering from Sano to Megumi and back.

"It means Tokio-dono's like Tae-dono and Sae-dono," Kenshin said. "She can't see us for what we really are, not anymore."

"She's not protected anymore either," Sano said, raking a hand through his messy hair. "Being the Wolf god's favored child made her immune to certain things, certain people. Now that protection is gone, and Tokio-chan's fair game."

Kaoru's worried gaze went from Sano to Megumi to Kenshin; the redhead slowly—reluctantly—nodded.

"Can't we do anything?" Kaoru asked, looking back at Megumi.

"I have none of Inari-dono's power behind me—I have been allowed to stay with Tokio-chan, but I'm not her guardian spirit anymore," Megumi said. "As such, and because she…" Megumi swallowed audibly and forced herself to finish: "And because she no longer believes in us, I have nothing to offer her."

There was a long moment of silence. Then:

"If you can't do anything because she doesn't believe in us anymore, that means the rest of us are in the same boat, doesn't it?" Kaoru asked.

Sano nodded.

"We only have power over someone if that person believes in us," he said. "We can only affect those who believe in us. Without that, well…our hands are basically tied."

"But wait a second," Kaoru said, confused, "if belief in us makes us powerful, allows us to have power over her, and she doesn't believe in us, doesn't that mean things like us can't touch her?"

"Yūrei are a different kind of supernatural than we are," Kenshin said. "You don't have to believe in them for them to do you harm. While Tokio-dono was under the protection of the Wolf god, yūrei couldn't touch her, as much as they might have wished to. Now that that protection is gone, however, she's as much fair game as any other mortal."

"Same goes for yako kitsune," Megumi murmured. "That's why I chose to stay; with me around, the yako are more likely to continue to keep their distance."

"There are thousands of other youkai she's no longer immune to, though," Sano growled, his frustration clear on his face.

"But she'll be okay with us around, right?" Kaoru asked uncertainly; she was the youngest of the group, and inexperienced in matters of guardianship and protection.

Being in Megumi and Kenshin's presences was the closest she'd ever been to the gods.

"We can scare off small fry," Kenshin said, frowning out into the darkness. "Most will not wish to incur the wrath of a zenko kitsune or a tengu."

"You're no slouch yourself, Kenshin," Sano murmured, and Megumi nodded.

Kenshin didn't give any indication of having heard, only waiting for a few moments.

"However," he said finally, voice soft, "small fry are not the only ones who will take an interest in Tokio-dono."

"Other gods?" Kaoru asked perceptively.

"It is always a possibility," Kenshin hedged. "And we have no power over gods."

"As it should be," Megumi said wearily. "We're servants. And servants never have power over their masters—it isn't the way of things."

There was a long pause, and then Kaoru asked,

"So now what do we do?"

"I'm staying with Tokio-chan," Megumi immediately said. "At least until Inari-dono calls me back. The rest of you are free to do as you please."

"Che—where the hell am I going?" Sano asked, crossing his arms and snorting.

"This one will also stay," Kenshin said, gold eyes seeming to gleam brighter.

"I'm in too," Kaoru said with a firm nod.

Megumi nodded, then sighed.

"All right, that's settled. We should go back to sleep. Or try to, anyway."

No one really agreed, but Kenshin and Kaoru began walking back. Megumi watched their progress, then eyed Sano—who hadn't moved—out of the corner of her eye.

"Something on your mind?" she asked.

"How long do you have before Inari assigns you a new ward?" he asked.

Megumi was surprised by the question, and caught off guard.

"I'm not sure," she said, losing some of her arch tone and haughty attitude. "Why?"

There was a long pause, and then Sano, looking off at the dark mountains, said,

"It's gonna take me some time to get the permission to get permanently assigned to protect Tokio-chan. In fact, it might not happen. But I'd like to try. I was hopin' I'd be able to know how much time I had to play with."

Megumi blinked, stunned by the revelation, particularly considering Sano's odds—it was unusual for tengu to leave their mountain haunts. It was even rarer for them to take on wards, rarer even than kitsune.

That he should wish to try, for Tokio, spoke volumes about his admiration for the child.

"I'm sorry Sano," Megumi said softly, sincerely. "I don't know."

Sano shrugged.

"It's fine," he said. "Just means I gotta work quicker than I think I should."

He switched forms, human characteristics becoming avian, dark hair becoming black feathers.

"You're going now?" Megumi asked.

"I've got some time before dawn," he said, stretching out his wings. "Better to ask for an audience with old Sōjōbō as soon as possible, get the ball rolling."

_You're a nice guy, Sano,_ Megumi thought fondly.

She knew better than to say it out loud—that would change their dynamic dramatically, and for now she was content with it the way it was.

So instead she said:

"Well hurry then. Try to be back before the sun rises—she'll miss you if you don't show up for breakfast."

He nodded, then took to the skies, his great wings leaving her hair in disarray. She calmly smoothed it down, then watched him until he disappeared, before turning and beginning back for the inn.

She'd talk to Kenshin before she returned to the room.

She had faith in Sano's sincerity, but there was no denying he was rather far down on the totem pole of authority, and it was best to have a back-up plan waiting just in case worst came to worst.

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

Tokio felt strange.

She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was odd, out of place, different from yesterday.

Maybe she was just still tired.

Breakfast was as raucous as ever, Megumi prodding Sano about the wolf den he'd never found and goading Kaoru about Kenshin, Tae and Sae plotting ways of getting Kenshin and Kaoru together, Kenshin playing peacemaker between Kaoru and Megumi, Sano focused on his food and little else.

As familiar as this routine was, Tokio couldn't enjoy it the way she knew she had before. It felt like she was missing something, something very important, something she should know. But her head started to pound every time she tried to focus on what she was missing, so she gave up and tried to ignore the strangeness tugging at the edges of her awareness.

After breakfast, Sano proposed a bit more exploring, looking at Tokio and adding,

"Maybe we'll find that wolf den this time."

Tokio shrugged, only mildly interested in the den today.

"Sure," she said easily, and Sano stared at her in something like shock for a moment before visibly shaking himself.

"Right," he said with a tight smile, and Tokio was left with the disquieting feeling that her response to the suggestion had not been the appropriate one.

Despite that, their hike was a pleasant one, and as time passed it grew easier and easier to push away the feeling of incompleteness that nagged more faintly with each passing hour.

By the time they returned to the inn, the sun was setting, and dinner was fast approaching.

They hadn't found the den today either.

Something told Tokio she should be more upset about that than she actually was.

And as with all the other odd feelings she'd been feeling all day, she ignored it.


	5. IV: Mukashibanashi I

**HAPPY (late!) CHRISTMAS, FAITHFUL READERSHIP! :DDDDD**

**We're not the same, dear, And it seems to me, There's nowhere we can go, With nothing underneath…:** Was listening to Death Cab for Cutie's "The Ice Is Getting Thinner" off their album _Narrow Stairs_ whilst bangin' this one out.

Talk about mood music.

It's really about a failed love affair, but the more I listened to it, the more it occurred to me that, if you ignored the one or two lines directly talking about the failed love affair, it had potential to stand as a kind of ode to failed relationships of all kinds, not simply the romantic kind.

Which made it all that much more appropriate, considering the content of this chapter.

So, if you're in the mood to listen to the Crazy Authoress, you might consider giving "The Ice Is Getting Thinner" a listen while you read this chappie.

Just a thought.

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own _Rurouni Kenshin_, _Ugetsu Monogatari_ or any of the tales referenced, however obliquely, within.

* * *

Words To Watch Out For:

Mukashibanashi: "Tales of long ago."

Ryūgū-jō: Ryūjin's castle under the sea. Depending on which legend you're going off of, it's made from red and white coral, or solid crystal. For our purposes, it's the former. On each of the four sides of the castle is a different season, and one day within its halls is equivalent to one hundred years outside of it. In the legend of Urashima Tarō, he visited for three days, and upon returning to land found that 300 years had passed. Again, I'm fiddling with legend here, purely for my own purposes, and that kind of time flow is reserved for humans visiting Ryūgū-jō; I'm working off the premise that time flows differently for gods and humans. The servants of the castle are generally considered to be sea creatures like jelly fish, sea turtles, fish, etc. There is apparently a station in Fujisawa, Kanagawa Prefecture that was built to evoke the feel of Ryūgū-jō, called Katase-Enoshima Station.

Yamato: the island of Honshū's ancient name; it has come to be a way of referring to something or someone distinctly Japanese, and has extremely patriotic undertones in modern usage.

* * *

_Ugetsu Monogatari: Tales of Moonlight and Rain_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

_IV.: Mukashibanashi I_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

Kenshin stared dispassionately at the great red and coral palace that had once been his home—once, many centuries ago, long, long before Kaoru had been born or Megumi had ascended to her post or Sano had been demoted to his.

Ryūgū-jō was a lovely place; he could not deny that, nor would he have thought to.

But it was also a place of unhappy remembrances for him.

Sighing, Kenshin continued on toward the palace.

_Nothing for it,_ he thought grimly, the disconcerting change in Tokio-dono spurring him onward.

As he thought, the servants and attendants remembered him and greeted him enthusiastically, even joyfully. He internally winced, but outwardly accepted it.

They couldn't have known, after all, that he had forever forsaken his place there along with his inheritance.

It was while he was halfheartedly submitting to being fussed over by the servants that a deep, sardonic voice rang out:

"What a surprise."

The voice didn't sound the least bit surprised—had it, Kenshin would have been.

He turned and bowed low.

"Shishou," he said, deference in his tone out of a habit that even hundreds of years away from his master couldn't shake.

"You lost the right to call me that when you left, boy," his once mentor said tonelessly, and Kenshin paused, having never considered that.

The being before him had always been "Shishou;" it had never occurred to him that his title should change along with their circumstances.

"Ryūjin-dono," Kenshin softly corrected.

Ryūjin grunted. "Rise and state your business," he said, and Kenshin rolled his eyes but did as ordered.

Clearly, the flow of time had done nothing to soften his mentor's approach.

Kenshin straightened and beheld, for the first time in nearly a millennium, his one-time teacher.

Ryūjin was in his "human" guise, which surprised Kenshin—had his great and terrible master so forgotten his one and only pupil enough to believe him a mere human?—until he recalled that his master had not seen him in his glamour for nearly a thousand years, and he'd been little better than a boy then. Much had changed in the intervening time, and it should only be natural that Ryūjin should choose the safer route, working on the assumption that a mortal had, once again, made his way to the palace under the sea, and it had always been Ryūjin's policy not to scare these mortals unless it became necessary.

Appearing as a giant dragon was bound to upset somebody.

His master's glamour was a handsome one: his long black hair lay in a long queue, bangs framing a handsome face. He was a large, imposing man, muscled, in a white mantle that only added to his grandeur. He wore cuffs around his thick wrists, and eschewed the traditionally flowing robes of the gods for a plain gi of sea foam green and hakama of ocean blue, tucked into gleaming black boots.

Kenshin raised an eyebrow at the very much Western addition to his master's wardrobe, but said nothing—it was none of his of his concern, really.

"Well boy?" Ryūjin growled, glaring. "State your business."

"This unworthy one wishes for Ryūjin-dono's indulgence in a matter of small importance to his augustness, but of great concern to this lowly one." Kenshin said, bowing his head.

Ryūjin eyed him coolly.

"This, I suppose, concerns that flea-bitten Wolf," he said finally.

Kenshin flinched and stared at Ryūjin in shock; Ryūjin raised a superior brow.

"And to think I once considered you for my successor," Ryūjin said with a sneer, and Kenshin's shock morphed into irritation.

_Ass_, he thought nastily, glowering at his former master.

"Mind your manners, idiot," his erstwhile teacher said with a self-important sniff, looking down his nose at Kenshin. "Well? Are you here about the Wolf's mortal child or not?"

"Yes," Kenshin said, deciding to take the high road—because it would be faster. "How did you know?"

Ryūjin snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I _do_ leave the castle under the sea, baka deshi," he said dryly, raising one eyebrow just so in a way that said, far better than words could, how much of a fool the Dragon god thought he was. "Not often, mind, but enough to glean the goings-on of the other gods, whether I wish to know or not."

"So you've been expecting me?" Kenshin asked, not liking the thought.

"Not especially," Ryūjin said, gaze settling moodily on a point beyond Kenshin's head. "I had heard you were still consorting with the mortals, and I had heard rumors that you were currently part of a motley little crew that was guarding the Wolf's mortal child. When I saw you were here, I assumed it had to do with her."

"Then you heard about him revoking his gifts from her?" Kenshin asked quietly, gaze steady on the being before him.

Ryūjin's gaze returned to him, unreadable.

"Yes," he said finally, after a long, pregnant silence. "I heard."

And of course, it went without saying that his former mentor had remembered revoking his own gifts from Kenshin nearly a millennia ago.

It was also abundantly clear to Kenshin that Ryūjin had not forgiven him for the events that had led to that result.

Then again, gods had the luxury of being able to nurse a proper grudge—they certainly existed long enough to make it count, anyway.

"I can't imagine," Ryūjin said at length, "what that has to do with you, however."

Kenshin watched Ryūjin in silence. Then:

"Tokio-dono is now…vulnerable," he murmured, meeting his mentor's inscrutable gaze solidly. "This one would like to minimize that vulnerability, if not completely do away with it."

Silence once more descended. Kenshin, who had never been able to ferret out his master's thinking processes or motivations, wasn't made too nervous by it. He was trying to tamp down the worry that Ryūjin would not help…

…which was an entirely separate matter from his being _unable_ to help.

"And will we be _marrying_ this one as well, baka deshi?" Ryūjin asked at long last, and Kenshin stiffened, quite shocked that his former master would bring _her_ up, even obliquely.

"This has nothing to do with Tomoe," he said at long last.

"Really?" Ryūjin didn't sound convinced. "It started the same way. And history does have a way of repeating itself…"

"This is nothing like that," Kenshin said flatly, and Ryūjin eyed him, gaze gimlet.

It had been a long time since Kenshin had been treated to that gaze, the one that looked through you even as it looked at you.

"I'm afraid I can't help you," Ryūjin said at last.

Kenshin's lips thinned, and his amethyst eyes chilled to gold.

"Can't, or won't?" he asked darkly.

"You're a thousand years too soon to make those sorts of threats against me, _boy_," Ryūjin said in a low, threatening voice, eyes burning with overt warning.

"You would hold something that happened lifetimes ago—"

"This one allows nothing having to do with the likes of _you_ to have any effect on him," Ryūjin interrupted in a thunderous tone that would have sent a lesser man running. "But until the mortal is entirely free of the Wolf god's influence, you can do nothing without bringing his notice your way. And you may be able to brush aside small fry, but the Wolf god is Ancient in the same way I am. You wouldn't last a moment under his undivided scrutiny."

Kenshin knew a moment of disquiet, that the great and terrible being who had taken him in and trained him would so baldly say that he didn't stand a chance against the Wolf god.

And Ryūjin had a bit of a mean streak in him, but he wasn't a liar—if he'd said it, it was because it was true.

Something else his former master said finally filtered through, and Kenshin frowned.

"Tokio-dono is still under the Wolf god's influence?"

"It takes time to right wrongs," Ryūjin said, tone bored. "Once the mortal proved her unworthiness, the Wolf god began the task of stripping her of the many gifts she'd been given over the course of her life. She'll be good as normal before the year's out, I expect. Magic only does so much, on its own—to do a thing right, it needs to be done with patience."

"There was no such meticulous care when this one was stripped of his gifts, as he recalls," Kenshin said dryly.

Ryūjin's gaze flickered to him, then to a point beyond him.

"And I have paid for that error in judgment many times over," he said tonelessly, "and will continue to do so for some time yet. Affection in a god is most inconvenient."

That familiar pang of regret rose in Kenshin, as it always did when he remembered that time long, long ago, when he called the castle under the sea home and the god before him "Shishou." He had spent many centuries under Ryūjin's care, and while his once teacher had never been exactly demonstrative, Kenshin had never felt unwanted. But Kenshin was still human, at his core, all of Ryūjin's gifts notwithstanding, and it was in human nature to want.

Kenshin supposed he would always be too human, in the end.

Affection in a god is most inconvenient, the Dragon god had said.

_Yes_, Kenshin ruefully decided, _I expect it is_.

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

He didn't stay long.

Then again, Ryūjin hadn't been expecting him to.

He watched the boy he'd taken in and raised walk away from him for the second time from an upper story of the red and white coral castle, alone.

_Not much's changed_, he mused, the bitterness and anger that had consumed him the first time absent now.

Of course, he had known Kenshin wouldn't be returning—if he hadn't returned in the intervening time, he wouldn't be now. The little redhead had made his choice long ago, and he had chosen to go back to human society.

He had always been a little too human, Ryūjin thought, to ever fit comfortably in a world populated by gods and myths.

It was a failing of gods, he decided, turning away before Kenshin drew completely out of his sight, that they should forget that mortals would always be mortals, no matter the gifts doting deities showered on them. It would save everyone a lot of time and effort and pain if only the gods would remember that one truth.

"I would know best of all, wouldn't I?" Ryūjin murmured sardonically, aimlessly leaving the window behind him.

He had not been the first to hear what had occurred between the Wolf god and his mortal girl, being as he so rarely left his castle these days, but it had eventually gotten back to him. And though he'd let out a snort and said the Wolf god was a fool, a part of him had ached, remembering that a mortal had turned his back on him once upon a time.

Gods did not gift lightly, so it was no wonder that they did not appreciate having their gifts flung back at them.

He had wondered at the wisdom of visiting the Wolf god—a very small part of him had thought it would be a good idea, though most of him had been quite dead set against it, remembering his own reaction to his own failure nearly a thousand years ago. In the end, foolishness had made him seek the other god out.

The Wolf god had been just as hostile as Ryūjin expected, and he hadn't forced his presence on the mongrel for too long.

Best not to corner wounded animals, after all.

Ryūjin found he couldn't call the other god a fool and dismiss him. He had simply fallen prey to the same weakness others before him had fallen to: loving one particular mortal child a little too fondly. And these mortals were just like children—just as selfish and thoughtless, just as petty and greedy.

His own weakness had afflicted him millennia ago, when gods had roamed the mortal plain as they now roamed their heavenly one. And he had come upon a little mortal boy-child in quite the last place he had expected to come upon one…

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

_It was rare for Ryūjin to travel by land—as a rule, he kept to rivers and streams to get around Yamato—but this day, he decided it couldn't hurt, so he abandoned the ancient pathways of the Dragon for the faint, dusty trails better suited to Tengu and Tanuki._

_ It was while he was making good time through the forest that he heard a noise that was out of place—a Mortal noise that didn't belong in the Wild Places. He immediately switched directions and decided to investigate, curious as to what business a mortal had in the Wild Places. He nearly passed the mortal by; if a small voice from somewhere in the vicinity of his slippers hadn't squeaked "Hello?" he most assuredly would never have found…well, his "prey," as it were._

_ Ryūjin looked down and met huge amethyst eyes in a pale little face smudged by dirt, surrounded by a halo of red hair._

_ He blinked._

_ "Hello," the child repeated softly._

_ "Hello," Ryūjin said, deciding that since he had nothing better, that would have to do._

_ "You look like a dragon," the boy said after studying him with serious eyes for some time._

_ "This one is a dragon," Ryūjin said. "What are you doing out here alone? This one expects your parents are wondering where you got off to."_

_The boy shook his head. "Gone," he said matter-of-factly. "Brothers too."_

_ "No parents, no brothers?"_

_Again, the boy shook his head._

_ "Then what are you doing out here alone, boy?"_

_ "Waiting."_

_ "For?"_

_ "My turn."_

_ Ryūjin cocked his head and studied the child. He couldn't be older than six summers, and he looked badly undernourished; there was a possibility he was already getting sick with whatever had taken his family. Ryūjin was not in the habit of concerning himself with Mortal affairs. His curiosity had been satisfied, and he decided he had wasted enough time on the child—he had matters to attend to elsewhere, duties to perform._

_ But there was a pathos to the way the child sat so quietly on his little rock, spindly arms wrapped around his upraised knees, large amethyst eyes regarding him so solemnly, that made him hesitate._

_ Despite that hesitation, Ryūjin did eventually continue on his way, the child's soft "Goodbye Dragon-dono," following him. For three days, Ryūjin was able to put the boy from his mind as he attended to his official business. But at three days' end, when he was once again heading through those woods—this time by water as usual—he remembered those large, solemn amethyst eyes. And it occurred to him what an odd eye color that was. That red hair, like flames floating around his thin shoulders, had been highly unusual too for a Japanese child._

_ It was an understood, accepted truth amongst the gods, that when a child was born with unusual traits it usually spoke of greater things to come in that child's future. This boy had been a wholly unique—and wholly Japanese—child. And Ryūjin began to suddenly wonder what the child's future held, and whether or not their meeting had been a fated thing…_

_ When he found the boy, still at the exact spot where Ryūjin had left him three days prior, the child had faded to even less than a shadow of his former self. He was curled up on the ground before the rock, too weak to do more than slit his unusual eyes open to see who loomed over him. The Dragon god smelled decaying mortality wafting off the spindly little body._

_Just in time, it would appear__, Ryūjin thought, raising an eyebrow._

_ "What is your name, boy?" he asked._

_ "Sh…in…ta." The soft little voice was barely a whisper now._

_Ryūjin frowned. "That name is far too soft for the likes of you. We shall have to remedy that."_

_ The boy's eyes slipped closed as Ryūjin bent and scooped him up. The child weighed nothing; he might have been holding a feather._

_ "In the mean time, child, we have other, more important matters to attend to than your name."_

_ Shinta sighed quietly, an almost last breath. Ryūjin, possessed of a truly awesome amount of power for one as—relatively—young as he, touched a hand to the boy's forehead, then drew it down over the pale little face. After a moment, the amethyst eyes opened, and the Dragon god grunted in approval when he saw the thin ring of amber circling the pupil._

_ "Hello Dragon-dono," Shinta said, sounding surprised._

_ "This one is called Ryūjin, boy," Ryūjin said, and smirked when the large eyes widened to hitherto unimagined size and his mouth shrunk into a tight little "O."_

_ "Oh," the child breathed. "Mother told me about you."_

_ "I doubt it was all right," Ryūjin murmured with a sniff. "That, however, is the least of our present concerns."_

_ "It is?" Shinta asked, mystified._

_Ryūjin grunted again and adjusted the slight weight in his hold._

_ "We must have a name to live up to your potential. Shinta will not suffice."_

_Apprehension filled the boy's gaze, and Ryūjin smirked._

_ "We shall have to meditate on this one," he decided. "For now, we shall discuss certain things."_

_ "I feel…__different__," Shinta said with a frown, eyes darting to Ryūjin's, who noticed more of the amber overtaking the amethyst._

_ "Yes," he said with a nod as he began walking. "That is one of the many things we shall discuss, baka deshi."_

_XoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoXoX_

He had never intended to as good as adopt the boy, but when the child had been fading, he hadn't the heart to let him slip away—not when he still had _Something_ to fulfill, not with so much raw potential.

That didn't make the memory of that day—or the one that had come hundreds of years later—any easier to live with. Nor the memory of Amaterasu-ōmikami's anger when she had learned just why it was impossible to strip Kenshin of _all_ the gifts Ryūjin had bestowed upon him.

"Long memories are a curse," Ryūjin murmured, watching sakura petals fall in lazy, whirling patterns upon the smooth coral floor.

He turned away from the sight and swept down the hall, toward his receiving hall, his great white cape flapping softly behind him.

He had frittered away his valuable time on mistakes best forgotten for long enough.

"Most inconvenient," he muttered as a pang went through his heart.


End file.
